


Go Off Together

by AscendWithGorb



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Canon Rewrite, Fluff, Getting Together, I'm Bad At Summaries, I'm Bad At Titles, Kinda?, M/M, No beta we fall like Crowley, and smooching ensues, basically they just don't fight, cause why not, i have no idea man, just read it it's super short
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-14
Updated: 2020-07-18
Packaged: 2021-03-04 23:07:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,737
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25254328
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AscendWithGorb/pseuds/AscendWithGorb
Summary: He didn’t mean it, he didn’t want to fight, not really, but what else was he supposed to do? The world was ending, hell itself was out to kill him, the only person he’d cared to spend eternity with had just told him the last six thousand years and the most important relationship he’d ever had had been meaningless, as much of a lie as Her love, from the beginning.
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 6
Kudos: 40





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I don't know okay, I was just trying to break my writers block and I thought it was cute, I was gonna post it on [Tumblr,](%E2%80%9Dthequeenunitato.tumblr.com%E2%80%9D) and I still might, but... here I am!

“It’s a big universe! Even if this all ends up in a puddle of burning goo, we can go off together.” 

It’s a last-ditch effort, he knows it is, but it’s rather the time for that at this point, is it not? With hell itself chomping at his heels, it did seem like throwing caution to the wind was the best move. Besides, a world without his fussy little angel was more than he could stand to think about. 

He knew Aziraphale cared about him, in some sense. Or at least, he’d had deluded himself into believing it. Why else would the angel spend so much time with him? Allow him to tempt him to lunch so often? To sprawl on his sofa and drink with him until the wee hours of the morning?

That belief came crashing down at the angel’s response, though, he didn’t look too convinced of the words himself, even as they left his lips, “go off together..? Listen to yourself.”

He _was_ listening, though it was clear the angel wasn’t. There was nothing else to _do_ , they had failed, Heaven wanted this war as much as hell, that was the blasted plan, right from the very beginning. The angel had to know that, he had to see. 

They were the only ones that had ever cared about Earth, about each other. Well, them, and a handful of humans, but that was always so fleeting, changeable. No, all they’d ever had was each other, for six thousand years, the angel was all he’d had, and he’d thought, believed, _trusted_ , that Aziraphale had felt the same. He tried to say as much, but Aziraphale didn’t want to hear it.

“How long have we been friends? Six thousand years.”

“‘Friends’? We’re not friends! We are an angel and a demon, we have nothing whatsoever in common, I don’t even like you!”

“You do,” he insisted, his heart - useless though it was - clenched painfully in his chest. That wasn’t true, it couldn’t be, he knew it, and yet.

“Even if I did know where the antichrist is I wouldn’t tell you, we’re on opposite sides!”

“We’re on our side!” Aziraphale’s face was the picture of anxiety, wrinkles popping between his brows, and Crowley desperately wanted to say something to calm him down, to fix what he’d done. He needed to correct whatever he’d said wrong because now the alternative was losing his best friend. Forever. There would be no hundred-year nap this time, no coming back once they’d cooled off. This was it, this was the end of ends, and if he let the angel walk away now he knew he would never see him again.

“There is no our side, Crowley! Not anymore, it’s over.”

All fight left him then, and Aziraphale seemed to know that was a felling blow, wringing his hands pathetically in front of himself and trying to look like he believed what he’d just said. 

Regardless, Crowley did, and it _hurt_ , worse than anything he’d known prior.

“Right… Well then… Ngk.” He turned, stumbling slightly on the steps. That was it then, the angel didn’t want him. That was fine, even if it wasn’t. He was lucky to have spent as much time with him as he had, he was blessed- cursed- something to have been able to call him a friend. For six thousand years, he’d been his best friend, even if Aziraphale didn’t think so. 

“Have a nice doomsday!” He called over his shoulder, trying to lighten the mood. If he had to walk away, he didn’t want to do it after a fight, he didn’t want things to end with the angel hating him. There had been _something_ there, he can’t have imagined it all, Aziraphale felt _something_ for him.

He stumbled again, hoping he managed to make it look intentional to the angel, not wanting him to know how badly he’d hurt him. If Aziraphale wanted to go out pretending he didn’t care, he damned well could too. 

“I-”

Crowley paused, but didn’t bother turning around. Glasses or not, he wasn’t sure how much longer he could keep up his mask of indifference. He was scared, scared and hurt, and he didn’t want to have to pretend in front of his only friend - except, not his friend, not anymore, if he ever had been. 

Still, the voice was closer than he expected, so maybe something had changed. Maybe they could talk. A niggling sense of hope that, despite everything, refused to just give up and _die already,_ made itself known once again in the demon’s breast. 

“That is… I… well- erm…”

“Out with it then,” Crowley hissed, harsher than he’d meant, rounding on the angel. He didn’t mean it, he didn’t want to fight, not really, but what else was he supposed to do? The world was ending, hell itself was out to kill him, the only person he’d cared to spend eternity with had just told him the last six thousand years and the most important relationship he’d ever had had been meaningless, as much of a lie as Her love, from the beginning. 

He felt gutted, hollow, so he fell back to what he knew best, the same mask he wore around other demons, the same fake rage and contrived evil everyone else knew of him. Just not the angel, he’d never wanted the angel to see him like this, but what was one more failure to top it all out. 

He bared his fangs, taking a measured step closer. “What is it you want, you made your point very clear, _angel_ , I’m leaving. And when I’m off in the stars, I won’t even think of you.”

That wasn’t true. None of it was. He didn’t want to live out eternity alone, he couldn’t stand himself by himself for that long. He’d be bored, especially out in space, nothing much to do for a demon on the lamb out in space. He’d stay home, he’d wait for Hestur, or Ligur, or Satan his blasted self to come to give him a nice little holy bath and let the angel go on thinking all was well with him. That he was off living amongst the galaxies he’d helped create.

Aziraphale, for his part, took the words as well as he would a physical blow, stumbling back slightly from where he’d been slowly edging forward. His hand, which had been reaching out, falling uselessly back to rest on his belly.

“I didn’t mean it,” he whispered, finally. When Crowley dared to meet his eyes, they were swimming in tears. “I don’t mean any of it, Crowley, I… We’re the good guys, this… This is all a misunderstanding, if I could only reach the right people…”

Crowley deflated, slowly taking off his glasses and hooking them into the deep dip in the collar of his shirt. “It’s not, angel. You have to know that, somewhere. She planned this, just like She planned the flood, the plagues of Egypt… This was always going to happen, there’s no one above Her, and She wants this, just as much as my side, just as much as Gabriel and the other winged assholes. This is the Ineffable Plan, you can’t… we’ve _failed_ , I’m sorry, but we’ve failed… Please… don’t make me spend eternity alone… Don’t make me leave without you.”

“What if… what if we haven’t..?” Aziraphale’s eyes sparked with something that looked dangerously like the same beast slowly growing under Crowley’s ribcage, and he wasn’t sure he had the energy left to deal with what’s to come of it.

“There’s nothing else to do angel, we don’t even know where the anti-”

“But what do?” Aziraphale was smiling now, reaching back out, and before Crowley knew what was happening, he had his hand wrapped firmly around Crowley’s, and was dragging him back in the direction of the Bentley. 

“Angel, what the heaven are you on about?”

Aziraphale just laughed, slightly manic, as he dragged him along. “That woman, the one you hit with your car.”

“Oi, she hit me!” Crowley protested weakly, stumbling slightly as Aziraphale shoved him behind the wheel, but he settled in soon enough, the wheel comforting, familiar, in his hands as he blindly pulled onto the road once the angel was seated next to him. _Where he belongs_ the thing in his chest added unhelpfully.

“I’m not sure that’s the point, dear. She left a book, you see.”

Crowley frowned, nodding slightly. “Yeah, tickety-boo, if I recall… what of it?”

“Well, it was a book of prophecy, the only one hundred percent accurate one to ever be written, and one I’ve never been able to get my hands on. Why, I’ve tried for centuries of course, but there’s only one copy, see, the rest were burned in a- well, that doesn’t much matter either, I suppose. The point is, the young woman left her copy in your car, and I used it to track down the antichrist!”

“You… you wot..?” 

The irritating thing in Crowley’s chest reared up, even stronger than before, as he glanced over to find the angel smiling brilliantly at him. 

“His name is Adam Young, he resides in Lower Tadfield, number six hundred and sixty-six, as fate would have it.” 

Crowley couldn’t tare his eyes off the angel, and not for the first time he’s incredibly thankful that his Bently is mostly sentient and can handle herself if need be. “Brilliant! You’re brilliant! I could bloody kiss you! I- I mean- I... ”

Aziraphale blushed, his smile fading down to a small, timid thing, but not vanishing altogether. “Well, perhaps if we survive the next twenty-four hours, I’ll allow it.”

Once again, Crowley is oh so thankful for his car. 

“Ngk.”

Aziraphale chuckled, turning back to look out the window, and Crowley followed his example, if only so he had something else - anything else - to focus on.


	2. Chapter 2

The apocalypse went over just as it always would, as it was always meant to, but you already know that story. The Them were always to win over the horsemen, and the power of love and loyalty would always triumph, regardless of the enemy.

The funny thing about God's plan, it was always going to end the same way, regardless of what trivial matters changed in the intermediary, and, despite popular opinion, a certain angel and a certain demon were always fated to end up together as well. She  _ always _ got what she wanted, the whole of the fun of it came from watching what happened along the way.

How they went about it was always up to them, whether a very creative child turned Satan himself into a huffy, middle-aged father, or, an ageless, immortal, treacherous demon, and a similarly ageless, immortal, treacherous angel swapped vessels to throw the equally ageless, immortal, and decidedly ignorant forces of heaven and hell themselves. 

(Well, not all of heaven. The angels did have some amount of their own free will, and She couldn’t say She was pleased with how they chose to use it. She had built Her kingdom on love, and frankly, those still under her were far more treacherous than the fussy angel and cantankerous demon.)

They would return the trinkets of the apocalypse, they would return to their bench in St. James, and they would change back to themselves. Whether or not they learned to act on their desires, however, that was still wholly up to them as well. Without their respective sides nipping at their heels though, it seemed far more likely.

“Right then, can I tempt you to a spot of lunch..?” 

Aziraphale gave a happy little wiggle, smiling up at his friend. Truly his friend - possibly even more - now. Though, they hadn’t discussed Crowley’s slip of the tongue, nor the angel’s less than negative reaction, since it had happened. 

“Temptation accomplished.”

Crowley’s smile was transcendent as he pulled himself to his feet, and the angel's grew to match when he hesitantly offered out a hand. They could touch now, no one was looking, they were allowed to truly enjoy each other without fear, for the first time in six thousand years, and Aziraphale didn’t hesitate in grabbing the proffered appendage and lacing their fingers together, humming happily. 

“You know,” Aziraphale started tentatively, lightly bumping their shoulders together as they strolled through the park. “I do believe a table at the Ritz has just miraculously come free.”

Crowley chuckled, nudging him right back. “Whatever you want, angel.”

Aziraphale gave another happy little wiggle, nudging him again and this time staying settled against his side, resting his head on his shoulder and shyly peeking up at him. Crowley bit back his own smile, complacently dropping the angel’s hand and instead wrapping his arm around his waist. 

“You know, I like to think this wouldn’t have worked out if you weren’t at least somewhat, deep down, just a touch of a good person…”

Crowley snorted, shrugging slightly, earning a slightly disgruntled grunt from the angel as his head was jostled. “I suppose, and if you weren’t, deep down, just enough of a bastard to be worth knowing.”

Aziraphale smiled shyly, a slow warmth creeping into his cheeks as he stopped and, by proxy, forced the demon walking with him to stop as well. “You know, I do believe I was promised a kiss, my dear.”

“I do believe you’re correct,” Crowley hummed, turning to face the angel and gently hooking a finger under his chin, before promptly freezing in place. “I… Are you sure, angel..?”

Aziraphale hummed, resting his hands delicately on his shoulders and quirking an eyebrow up at him. “Am I going too fast for you, of all people..?”

Crowley flinched slightly, turning his head away. “Angel I don’t know if you know what you’re asking of me. This is… I don’t just want… This. I… I want everything, though, I’m not sure I know how…”

“I do have standards, you know,” Aziraphale piped up haughtily, gently cradling his cheek in his palm and coaxing him back to meet his gaze.

“Oh I’m well aware of  _ that-” _

“Traitor or not, I am still an angel,” Aziraphale cut him off, smiling kindly up at him. “You’re the one that convinced me to rebel against… Well… Everything. I went to hell for you, asked Beelzebub themself for a bloody rubber duck, do you think this,” he paused, gesturing between them, “is all I want..?”

Crowley hesitated, turning to lay a kiss on the soft palm still resting against him. “When..?”

“Since Rome, my dear,  _ dear _ demon”

“Ngk-” Crowley grunted intelligently, and before he could think of anything else, better, the angel’s lips were on his. 

When they parted, Aziraphale was smiling broadly, and Crowley looked utterly shocked, his glasses slipping down his nose. He didn’t move to fix them, and Aziraphale gently pulled them off before kissing him again.

This time Crowley managed to get with the program, shyly kissing him back and wrapping his arms tightly around his waist, as if afraid the angel would vanish if he loosened his grip even a fraction. “When for you, my dear?” Aziraphale breathed when they parted.

Crowley shrugged, smiling shyly. “I believe I recall something of a flaming sword…”

“That long..?” Aziraphale’s smile faltered slightly for the first time since he’d spotted the demon safely on their bench. “Oh, my love, I’m so sorry… I must have hurt you so badly…”

“‘S no big deal, angel… I never thought… I just always thought I was lucky to call you my friend.”

“Still,” Aziraphale sighed, gently brushing his hair back. “I’ve said such horrible things… but… I suppose… We have all the time in the world to make up for that now, don’t we..?”

“All the time in the world,” Crowley mimicked, kissing his forehead. “Come on, you, I am still a demon, I can only handle this gooey shit for so long, let’s go get you some dinner.” His soft smile gave him away, and Aziraphale chuckled at him, even as he complacently took his place back at his side as they strolled through the park.

“All the time in the world,” Crowley whispered again, gently squeezing the angel’s hip. Aziraphale just giggled, tucking himself closer and letting Crowley lead the way. He’d have plenty of time to tease him about just how ‘gooey’ he’d always been later, now, he just wanted to enjoy their newfound freedom.


End file.
